


For an angel, anyway

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Pre arrangement, Random - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Not half bad,” he smirked, watching him leave.“For an angel, anyway.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Random pre arrangement fic. Enjoy.

Amidst the Earth, on the sandy ground, alone and unafraid, a demon stood.

Rather, he walked. However, instead of rushing by like all the other people, he simply strolled slowly, thinking. Humans were always in such a rush, he thought. If they stopped to consider things, thought about good and evil and what they could do, they could achieve so much. But instead, they just raced ahead, not ever considering things.

Perhaps it was for the best. They already did enough damage as is.

Crowley kept his head down, shielding his eyes from the inquisitive people. He didn’t know what they would do to him if they saw his eyes. And he wasn’t very keen on finding out. He was enjoying this body, and didn’t want to be rid of it any time soon.

He was also keeping his head down for another reason – the angel.

He should have realized, really. Heaven and Hell honestly weren’t that different in their ways. Almost immediately after Crowley had been sent down, Heaven had sent down a spy too. And it was safe to say that they didn’t really get on.

Truthfully, they had only met a few times. But it was assumed they wouldn’t get on. It was forbidden, after all. Angels and demons just don’t mix. Even though they are technically of the same stock, they couldn’t be more different.

But this angel was particularly annoying, Crowley thought. He smelled like old books all the time, and had the most terrible fashion taste, even for this era. Heck, he even looked Heavenly, with his stupid blue eyes and blonde curls. He was so angelic and arrogant, as they all were, and Crowley hated it.

Shaking his head as if to be rid of the thoughts, Crowley looked up and narrowed his eyes at what he saw.

“Speak of the devil,” he mumbled. “Or rather, angel,” he added, to himself.

It was that stupid bloody angel again. What was his name? Aziraphale. That was it.

He was standing there, conspicuously standing behind a group of farmers, biting his lip in concentration. The crops in the field were growing rapidly, quickly sprouting green leaves in the dry dirt. Exuberant cries were heard from the people all around.

The demon narrowed his eyes. The plants drooped and died.

Aziraphale appeared rather confused, brow crinkling in confusion. He lowered his hand, and attempted to raise the dry plants. Nothing.

Turning around, an annoyed expression appeared on his face. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he walked towards Crowley.

“You,” he said, with the tone of one who would much rather not say it again.

“Hello, angel,” Crowley muttered cheekily, looking the enemy up and down and thinking of ways he could thwart him.

“Why did you do that?” Aziraphale asked, sounding a little hurt. “All the people were so happy! It was miracle to them!”

Crowley frowned, looking a little confused. “But isn’t it satisfying putting out their joy? Watching all the little ways they give up and hurt people, just from one tiny little thing?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Typical demon,” he sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Challenged Crowley. “I bet I’m the most interesting demon you’ll ever meet. I do things, differently.”

The angel raised an eyebrow dubiously. “How so? What sort of things do you do?” he enquired, sounding exasperated.

Crowley smiled, then said, “Well, I glue coins to the ground.”

Aziraphale burst into laughter. “What?” he exclaimed. “That’s it? You glue coins to the ground?”

Crowley desperately tried to think of something else. “I…make people in front of people walk slower. And…”

Aziraphale chuckled, shaking his head. “I have to say, that’s not that evil, my dear.”

Crowley appeared annoyed. “Yes it is! It’s revolutionary. Especially in this day and age!” he snapped. “Besides, I have lots of funny stories to tell from it.”

The angel tilted his head. “Like what?” he asked.

 

Several drunken hours later, the angel and the demon were sitting in an archaic café of some sort, giggling and talking.

“You know,” Crowley said, “you’re not half bad. For an angel, at least.”

Aziraphale smiled. “And you're surprisingly good, for a demon,” he chuckled sounding a little shocked by his own words.

They both smiled, slightly drunkenly.

“We should make this a tradition,” Crowley declared. The angel frowned.

“I certainly don’t want drinking regularly to be a tradition!” he exclaimed. “I really hope Heaven can’t see me right now…” he added.

“But it is fun, isn’t it?” Crowley purred. Aziraphale pouted, not wanting to admit the demon was right.

“I can’t believe I’m actually hanging out with an angel,” Crowley mumbled to himself. “What a lax demon.”

Aziraphale tapped his fingers against the dirty glass he was holding. “We should come up with some sort of arrangement. You know, so we can be friends without breaking the rules.”

“But breaking the rules is fun.”

“Not if you get fired.”

Crowley nodded. “True,” he contemplated. “I’ll think about it,” he said, nodding at Aziraphale.

The angel leaned towards Crowley, as if he were about to say something dreadful.

“If I do say so myself,” he whispered, “this has been really bloody fun.”

Crowley grinned. “I bet. Heaven is so boring,” he hissed.

Aziraphale silently nodded. He looked around, then sighed.

“I think I’d better go. Heaven might suspect something,” he said, looking a little guilty, having betrayed his employers.

“Alright,” Crowley muttered. “Bye then, angel.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the silly pet name. “Goodbye, dear.”

Crowley watched the angel leave, a strangely fond look shining his eyes.

“Not half bad,” he smirked, watching him leave.

“For an angel, anyway.”

 


End file.
